


Silken

by anothercountry



Category: Killing Eve (TV 2018)
Genre: Clothing, F/F, Villanelle sure does love her luxury clothes huh
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-26
Updated: 2020-04-26
Packaged: 2021-03-02 08:55:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,023
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23848546
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/anothercountry/pseuds/anothercountry
Summary: Villanelle gets horny over clothes and teases Eve.
Relationships: Eve Polastri/Villanelle | Oksana Astankova
Comments: 3
Kudos: 111





	Silken

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first time writing for this pair and idek what this IS but I’m a bit drunk and decided to write this at 2AM so enjoy it (or not I don’t judge!) xoxo

“Do you like it?”

Eve loved it. It was simply exquisite; then, all of Villanelle’s clothes were. But this, a French silk dressing gown in a soft mint green with gold thread, took her breath away. For a moment, Villanelle lived up to the lofty sounds of her chosen name - with her golden hair on her shoulders, the dying light pouring in through the hotel window, she looked angelic, like a pampered woman, one who’d faced not one moment of hardship. In just a second she would move, and her assassins gait would take over, and the illusion would be shattered. She would be Oksana again.

“You’re being quiet for once. Don’t you like it?” Villanelle frowned, a small furrow appearing in her brow.

“No - no. It’s great. I prefer what’s underneath, though.” Eve moved closer to her, running her hands over the silk, feeling it like water in her hands, pure luxury.

“You don’t appreciate fashion, Eve.” Villanelle sucked her teeth and shook her head, “I would dress you so great if you’d let me.”

She stretched her arms behind her head, the silk clinging to her form, falling gracefully over that slender body that always amazed Eve with the strength that it had behind it. Where Eve’s body was soft, Villanelle’s was hard, not bulky but well muscled, lean and powerful.

“I like what I wear.” At this, Villanelle placed a hand on her shoulder and pushed her towards the bed. Eve sunk down into the mattress, an unbearably soft one, another of those creature comforts Villanelle simply had to have, and lay down as Villanelle bent over her, stroking her cheek with the pads of her fingers, brushing her wild flyaway waves behind her ear. 

“I like what you wear, too. But sometimes-“ Villanelle slowly slid her hand up Eve’s polyester camel jumper, rubbing her hands across her chest. She stroked Eve’s nipples, swirling her finger in circular motions, almost skimming the surface of her skin so soft was her touch. “I wish I could dress you exactly as I want you.”

“How would that be, then?” Eve drew in a breath. She was still growing accustomed to Villanelle touching her like this, so casually, so gently. With her breath Villanelle pressed her lips against hers, the red lipstick Eve had taken to wearing since they escaped imprinting on her lips. She kissed her jaw, licking a line down her neck, tasting the plain, workaday soap Eve preferred over everything, even the luxury shower gels Villanelle had hoped she’d start using since she started ‘accidentally’ leaving them in the shower. 

“Oh!” Villanelle almost moaned, “It would be glorious. You’d look great in mink, a lovely white mink, against your dark hair...I wouldn’t make you get rid of all your jumpers and shirts, don’t worry. But these ones wouldn’t be Reiss’ ‘no ironing’ collection.” Eve let out a small snort at this, particularly at the contempt with which Villanelle said ‘ironing’, “The shirts would be silk, and the jumpers, cashmere.” Villanelle grabbed a chunk of Eve’s curls in her hand, firmly but not aggressively, and moved her hands south, slipping them into Eve’s underwear, running her fingers ever so gently along her lips, teasing. 

“Oh, God,” Eve breathed heavily as Villanelle slid one slender finger inside her, using another to just barely stroke her clit, so lightly it was almost unbearable.

“But best of all, Eve, would be the lingerie.” Her perfect French accent as she said lingerie was undeniably sexy to Eve, “Oh, my God! You would be dressed perfectly for me. A navy blue lace, your colour. A black see-through set, you know the sort, to tease me with. You’d like that, wouldn’t you?? You always teased me.” Villanelle increased the pressure on Eve’s clit so suddenly she almost yelped in a pleasurable surprise, curling the finger inside much more rapidly.

“Yes, yes! I would.” Eve had always known that what she most enjoyed with Villanelle was the teasing, the knowing she had just been there before, the letting-her-know. What she hasn’t imagined was that getting caught by the cat in this cat and mouse game could be so pleasurable; Villanelle was experienced, clearly, and Eve was close to climax.

“But best of all would be a scarlet silk negligee, with nothing underneath. Imagine how that would feel against your skin, soft against soft. You would be exquisite in scarlet, Eve. I would love to just slip my hand underneath and fuck you hard, your legs up, those gorgeous stockings rubbing against my cheek....how would you like that?”

“Oh, I want it. I want it! Oh, I’m so close, Villanelle,” Eve was truly close to the edge now, at the point just before orgasm that was almost better than the moment itself, burning with sensation.

“Well, guess what, Eve? You’re not the only tease!” And with that, Villanelle suddenly withdrew her hand from Eve, letting go of the grip of her hair with such a force that Eve fell back on the bed. She tied her silk dressing gown up again nonchalantly, briskly walking over to the window and pulling open those purple velvet curtains to reveal the sunset on the horizon. She saw a man in the courtyard - he looked up at her, and didn’t look away. He seemed entranced by the sight of her, smirking, her hair in disarray and her cheeks rosy. Villanelle registered the attention boredly and rolled her eyes, shutting the curtains again - almost as quickly as she’d pulled them apart.

Eve was frustrated. Almost more frustrated than she had been trying to catch Villanelle in the first place. Her clit ached - one more, just one more, second of Villanelle’s expert touch would have pushed her over that edge and left her satisfied. Well, not precisely - when it came to Villanelle, she doubted she would ever be satisfied. She groaned and let out a small scream of desperation, “You’re a bastard, you know that? I’ll just finish myself off, then, shall I?”

Villanelle swivelled around, eyes scarily wide, “No! Be patient, Polastri. You’ll get what you want. But first, we’re going shopping...”


End file.
